


Lizvabi and the Cat

by thebeautifulbadass (2SAM2FURIOUS)



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8191445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2SAM2FURIOUS/pseuds/thebeautifulbadass
Summary: Liz arrives at Samar's door with a cat. Fluff (haha get it??) with a smattering of angst. Lizvabi.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whimsicalwombat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalwombat/gifts).



> I originally intended for this to be entirely cat-related fluff...but I'm me, so it ended up angsty with an actual plot. I see it as taking place after the on-the-run arc, but it obviously isn't canon-compliant from that point forward.
> 
> This is dedicated to my amazing twin, whimsicalwombat, in honor of her one-year fanfic-writing anniversary, which is this month! Go read her fics, they're obviously wonderful. (BBBBBBTUE, thanks for making me finish this. And for always encouraging my writing, whether it's cat fluff or seeeerious angst. And also for dealing with my ridiculousness on basically a daily basis. We both know you're the better twin. ;))

Samar lugged herself up from the couch at the sound of a knock on her door.

And then she wished she hadn’t, because when she opened it, she found Liz standing there, clutching a cat to her chest.

Samar eyed the cat stonily, then glanced back at Liz, not saying a word.

Liz grinned sheepishly. “Can I-”

“No,” Samar interrupted adamantly, shaking her head. “I hate cats.”

Liz sighed and rolled her eyes. “Please, Samar? I found him on the street and the vet says he’ll be fine in a couple days but I just want to make sure before I hand him over to a shelter.”

“Fine, but why are you _here_?”

“Because, as you very well _know_ , my apartment doesn’t allow animals, and I’m already on super thin ice after almost burning the place down last month,” Liz shot back.

“Elizabeth…” she sighed.

Liz widened her eyes, her lower lip jutting out in a pout—almost what you’d call a puppy-dog face, which Samar wouldn’t because it was too ironic—and held the cat up next to her cheek. “Look how cute he is,” she cooed.

“I’m already living with your dog,” Samar argued, “and even _that_ I was iffy on.”

“Cats are _so_ much easier than dogs. And I’m here all the time; you won’t have to do anything. Please?” Liz’s lip pouted out even farther.

Samar groaned. “Okay, okay, _fine_ , I can’t say no to that face.” She held the door open and stepped back for Liz to walk through.

“Told you he’s cute,” Liz replied with a shrug as she passed.

“I’m not talking about the cat, I’m talking about you.” Samar shoved the door closed and followed Liz inside, sending her a wink when she glared at her over her shoulder.

Liz set the cat down on the living room rug, kneeling beside him and stroking his back a few times until he lay down. Then she stood and turned away towards the door, breezily tossing back, “I have to run to the store and buy cat stuff.”

“You’re leaving me _alone_ with it?” Samar asked incredulously, gesturing helplessly at the scared cat curled up on the rug below.

“First of all, he’s a he. Second of all, what on earth do you think he’s going to do in the twenty minutes I’m gone?”

“I have no idea because I know nothing about cats!” Samar hissed in a whisper, as if she were afraid the cat were listening to their conversation and judging her, saving up the spite for later.

Liz swallowed down a chuckle and tilted her head, smirking at Samar. “Look at him, Samar—he’s more scared of you than you are of him.” She watched as Samar gazed down at the little furball skeptically. “Just sit nearby and talk to him. I’ll be right back.” She stepped toward her, stood on her tiptoes, and pecked a quick kiss on Samar’s cheek, then strode toward the door and disappeared.

Samar shot a wary glance toward the cat who was gazing up at her with big eyes, body tensed. She gave him a wide berth as she made her way to the wall about ten feet away, and then slid down until she was sitting on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest. She didn’t take her eyes off of him.

She also had no idea what to say, because he was a _cat_.

They stared at each other for so long that Samar literally felt like it was awkward to remain silent. “I won’t hurt you,” she started. “I may not like you but I won’t hurt you.”

The cat just continued gazing at her warily.

“Do you have a name?” She sighed then, rolling her eyes at herself. “I just asked a cat a question,” she mumbled. “I’m sure Liz will want to name you if she hasn’t already…” She studied the cat’s face, his big green eyes, the markings swirling and striping across his gray fur, pondering for a moment. “But I think I’m leaning toward Steve.”

She watched as the cat’s eyes anxiously darted around the room, then returned to her.

“Steve the Cat. Liz will love it.” She bit back a smirk as she imagined Liz’s reaction. She would give her that adorable look of bafflement Samar loved so much, and then she’d see her sweet dimpled smile and maybe hear her beautiful laugh.

“So, where are you from, Steve?”

Silence. She sighed, then reluctantly rested her hand, palm facing up, on the floor beside her.

“You can come smell me if it will make you feel better. I’ve been told I smell pretty fantastic. And I promise I’m not a monster.” She paused, looking contemplative for a second, then grimaced with a shrug. “Well, that’s up for debate actually, but I’m only a monster to humans who deserve it. Never cats.” She watched the cat’s tail flick back and forth once, before adding, “Even if the cat deserves it.”

The cat made no move to come near her, her upturned palm and her fantastic scent not quite enticing enough. Samar crossed her arms on top of her knees and lowered her chin to rest on them with a sigh. She remained quiet and unmoving for long minutes until the cat finally seemed a bit more comfortable around her—at least comfortable enough to relax his muscles and get more comfortable in his spot on the floor, allowing his eyes to roam around the room further.

Finally, after what felt like ages, she heard Liz knocking on the door. She pushed herself to her feet and went to open it, thinking it was probably time to just give her a damn key now that her entire clan of animal offspring was taking up residence in her home.

Liz grinned when she saw the scowl on Samar’s face. “Stop being so grumpy,” she whispered as she lifted her free hand briefly to Samar’s cheek and walked past her into the apartment.

Samar rolled her eyes and followed Liz inside, watching as she dropped the bags on the living room floor.

The cat jumped up, startled at the intrusion, and retreated behind the nearest table leg, before realizing this was a human he’d grown slightly comfortable with already (despite her taking him to that dreaded vet’s office). He crept back towards them, sniffing at the bags as Liz knelt down, rifling through them.

“Did you name him yet?” Samar asked casually as Liz pulled out small bags of food and litter.

“Nope,” Liz replied, ripping open the top of the litter bag.

“Good. His name’s Steve.”

Ah yes, there it was. The look. Samar had to swallow the amused grin attempting to break out across her face.

“….Steve?” Liz asked, standing up and pouring litter into the box, glancing at Samar skeptically.

“Yes. I named him Steve.”

“Why Steve?”

“Why _not_ Steve?”

Liz snorted. “You’re so weird. Okay, Steve it is. Does you naming him mean you’re gonna let me keep him longer than a few days?” she asked, her eyes bright with mischief and glee.

“I didn’t say that,” Samar tried to insist, but then Liz made that puppy-dog face again and she closed her eyes, leaned her head back and sighed. “Fine. Steve can live here. But on a _trial_ _basis_. And you have to post fliers around the area—he might belong to someone else.”

“Deal.” Liz grinned, setting the bag back on the floor. “I have the _best_ girlfriend.”

Samar groaned under her breath. “What did I say about calling me that?”

“That it had to be on a very limited basis. But this is an appropriate time, I think.”

“Really? Because of a cat?” Samar asked incredulously, opening her eyes.

“Yep. Because this is just another example of how you’re willing to put up with a lot of baggage for me.”

“I do that because I love you. That doesn’t make me your girlfriend,” Samar argued, knowing it was futile—Liz was a hopeless romantic at heart, behind all the walls she’d built up after Tom.

“Yes it does,” Liz whispered, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Samar’s waist.

“Why?” Samar asked, her face only a couple inches from Liz’s. She was unable to stop the tiny smile tugging at her lips.

“Because I say so.” Liz kissed her then, and Samar instantly gave in. She wasn’t good at holding out during these silly disagreements—she was never _actually_ arguing, after all. Liz always won, and honestly she didn’t mind one bit. She was happy to be Liz’s girlfriend, even if the word made her feel like she was an immature teenager popping bubblegum in some American high school’s history class.

“You win,” she whispered against Liz’s lips.

“Ha! Knew it!” Liz exclaimed, hopping back and pointing at her authoritatively.

Samar smiled and grabbed the finger poking into her chest, uncurling Liz’s fingers and twining them between her own. “Obviously.”

The sound of a tiny bell caught their attention, and they both glanced down to where Steve was pawing at a toy still caught in its packaging.

Samar sighed exasperatedly. “You bought him a _toy_?”

“Of course I did.”

“Just the one?”

“Of course not.”

Samar chuckled and wrapped an arm around Liz, placing a kiss on the side of her head. “I love you.”

“I know you do, and the feeling’s mutual,” Liz murmured, kissing Samar’s shoulder before pulling away and crouching down to sort through the cat supplies again.

Samar joined her on the floor and helped her disentangle the three new cat toys from their packaging. She tossed a sparkly ball a couple feet away and Steve simply watched it with curiosity. She sighed. “You’re supposed to play with it, Steve.”

Liz stood up with the bag of food and the cat bowls and carried them into the kitchen. “He just needs time to settle in. Cats take a while to adjust to new environments,” she explained, her voice drifting from around the corner.

Samar heard the sound of food clunking into a bowl, then the faucet turning on to fill the other with water. Liz set the bowls down in the corner of the kitchen and tucked the bag away inside a cabinet before returning to the living room. She picked up the litter box and carried it to the corner behind the couch, then made another trip to store the bag of extra litter in the nearby closet. She was right at home in Samar’s apartment, needing no permission to do as she liked.

Steve cautiously slunk over beside the couch and peeked around. Liz smiled when she saw him. “There you go, Steve. Luxury accommodations,” she said, gesturing to the box. She moved slowly away and turned to face Samar, watching out of the corner of her eye as Steve crept over to investigate his new bathroom.

Liz hopped back over to Samar and lowered herself to the floor, lying down with her head in Samar’s lap. Samar began absentmindedly stroking her hair.

“Hey, where’s Hudson?” Liz asked, breaking the peaceful silence.

“With the dog-walker.”

“This late?”

“Yeah, she said he was her favorite of her clients and she wanted to show him off to her brother who’s in town, so I said sure.”

Liz smiled up at her, and Samar blushed under her happy gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just like this whole co-parenting thing. It’s nice not being a single mom,” Liz said, her nose crinkling in amusement.

“Yeah?” Samar said, continuing to stroke her hair.

“Yeah. And it doesn’t hurt that you’re nice to look at.” Liz smirked.

Samar chuckled and leaned over until her hair was falling around Liz like a curtain. “Oh, shush,” she whispered, before kissing her softly.

She sat back again just as Steve came padding toward them. He stopped a few feet away and stuck his nose forward, cautiously sniffing the air.

“Hey, Stevie,” Liz murmured, reaching toward him slowly. He crept closer, inch by very slow inch, until his little nose was touching Liz’s thumb. And then he pushed his nose into her palm, hoping Liz got the hint.

She did.

She stroked his head a few times, and rubbed her thumb behind an ear, murmuring, “See, he’s such a sweetheart.”

“You know he’s just using you as his personal petting machine, right?” Samar joked, smirking down at Liz who glared up at her.

“Think what you want, Samar, but you’ll see. Cats are awesome.”

Samar grinned as she continued stroking Liz’s hair. “Let’s just say you should be glad I’m not allergic.”

 

***

 

Samar woke up sweating. She realized why approximately two seconds later.

Liz was snuggled into her side, an arm flung across her stomach. Hudson was warming the bed at her feet. And Steve was on her pillow, curled against the top of her head, one of his front legs draped down the side of her face, his paw against her cheek.

She sighed. The cat hadn’t come near her all evening, preferring to explore by himself or to be near Liz. But of course the middle of the night was the _perfect_ time to decide he wanted to be friends.

God, she hated cats. And honestly, she wasn’t too thrilled with the dog at the moment either. She felt like she was being smothered; she loved being close to Liz, but she could do without the fur when she was sleeping.

Samar tried to move her head, but couldn’t. “Dammit,” she whispered.

Liz stirred against her, and Samar, slightly desperate, urged her to wake up. “Liz. _Liz_ ,” she hissed.

Liz’s eyes squinted open. “Hmm?” she mumbled.

“Your cat is trying to smother me,” Samar stated simply.

Liz lifted her head and smiled sleepily when she saw Steve’s position. “Smother you with _love_ ,” she corrected.

Samar scowled. 3am was not the best time for jokes. She was cranky at 3am. “Will you please just get him off me?”

Liz nodded and sat up enough so she could pluck a startled Steve off of Samar’s pillow.

Steve was taken off guard, and immediately extended his claws to try to regain leverage—he wanted to stay put. Samar winced and yelped in pain as two claws scraped across her cheek. She turned quickly to the side to shield her face from further attack.

Liz plopped Steve on the opposite side of the bed, stroked his back once to reassure him, and turned her attention back to Samar as the cat jumped down from the bed, scampering out of the bedroom.

“Cat scratches rank up there with paper cuts on the list of things that shouldn’t hurt like hell but do.” Samar grimaced, clutching at her cheek. She lifted her fingers away to find blood and sat up with a sigh.

“Waking him up must’ve scared him,” Liz explained apologetically, cupping Samar’s chin and turning her face so she could get a better look at the cuts. She frowned, leaning in to kiss her. “I’m sorry,” she murmured against her lips.

Liz grabbed Samar’s hand and climbed out of bed, pulling her up with her and into the bathroom, flicking on the light.

She turned to look at Samar’s face in the light. It looked worse. Two long, bright red welts with blood pooling in their centers.

There must have been something pitiful in Liz’s expression, because Samar’s brows furrowed in suspicion, and she asked, “Is it really that ba-?” as she turned her head to the mirror. She stared at her reflection, stone-faced, then said, straightforwardly, “You know I’ll have to explain this at work tomorrow, right?”

Liz tugged on her hand, gesturing for her to sit down on the edge of the tub. She gathered first-aid supplies and got to work on the cuts. “We’ll tell them the truth,” she said, dipping a Q-tip in rubbing alcohol.

Samar raised an eyebrow. “You’re ready for that?”

Liz applied the alcohol to Samar’s cheek and Samar closed her eyes, sucking in a sharp breath through her nose. “Sorry,” Liz whispered, focusing on covering the welts in alcohol. “We don’t have to tell them the _whole_ truth,” she finally continued as she tossed the used Q-tips into the trash. “We can just tell them that you’re taking care of my pets until I can find another place. They know we’re friends; they won’t be suspicious.” Liz opened a bandage and attached it to Samar’s cheek.

“They might be a _little_ suspicious,” Samar replied.

“Okay, then we’ll let them be suspicious,” Liz said, shrugging. She smiled, pushing herself up onto her knees. She slid one hand to the back of Samar’s neck, tangling her fingers in her hair and lightly stroking her scalp. “I love you,” she whispered, nuzzling her nose against Samar’s, their foreheads pressed together. “I don’t care what they think.”

Samar breathed in Liz’s closeness, and then her lips were searching for Liz’s, hungry once they’d found them.

Liz brought her free hand up to Samar’s uninjured cheek, deepening the kiss. Samar reached for Liz’s side, trying to pull her closer, and Liz took the hint. She stood, not breaking the kiss and lowered herself into a straddle on Samar’s lap.

Samar used one hand to brace herself against the edge of the tub and ran the other up Liz’s back.

Liz shifted her hips and lifted her face a fraction of an inch above Samar’s. “Wanna go back to bed?”

“Yes,” Samar whispered, nodding feverishly, her lips finding Liz’s again.

They didn’t get much sleep the rest of the night. But if she was being honest, Samar wasn’t as upset with the cat anymore.

 

***

 

Liz arrived at the Post Office about ten minutes before Samar. They were always careful to drive separately and not arrive at the same time, and today they wanted to be extra careful since the team would find reason enough to be suspicious once they’d seen Samar’s cheek.

“Jesus, Navabi, what happened to your face?”

Liz rolled her eyes at the sound of Ressler’s voice. She tossed her coffee stirrer in the trash and carried her mug out of the break room to join the conversation in the war room. Ressler looked concerned, and Aram looked _extra_ concerned. Liz stood to the side, sipping at her coffee as Samar explained, “An unhappy cat.”

Liz smirked into her mug.

“You have a cat?” Ressler asked, looking confused.

“No, Liz has a cat.”

Aram stepped forward, looking even more baffled than Ressler. “But…wait, I’m confused.” He didn’t even know what to ask.

“Liz’s cat lives with me. Her apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

“Hudson’s with her too, for now,” Liz added.

Aram and Ressler glanced between the two women, brows furrowed. “That’s…weird.” Ressler muttered, before turning away toward his desk.

Aram studied them for a couple seconds longer, then his face broke out into a smirk. “I don’t think the cat likes you very much, Agent Navabi.” He walked away, ignoring the exaggerated eye roll on Samar’s face.

“Yeah, I figured that out for myself,” Samar shot back, glancing over at Liz who was walking toward her.

Liz stopped in front of her and took another sip of her coffee. “You know that’s not true, right? He likes you. He was cuddling you,” Liz grinned.

“More like ‘using me as a warm body,’” Samar replied with a frown that was trying really hard not to be a grin. Liz sighed and started to turn away, but stopped when Samar continued. “Better get to work on those fliers today.” Liz glared at her, but Samar only smirked.

Liz rolled her eyes and marched away, and Samar glanced over to find Aram watching curiously, his eyes quickly returning to his computer as soon as he saw her looking at him.

 

***

 

That evening, Liz came back to Samar’s apartment after plastering the fliers around the area where she’d found the cat. She dropped her car keys into her purse as she walked across the parking lot and reached into the side pocket, searching…

Samar had given her a key after work, very casually and nonchalantly, trying not to act like it was a big deal, but Liz knew it was. Her eyes had stung with tears, but they were in the parking garage at work, so all she could do was take the key from Samar’s hand and give her a wobbly smile. Liz had climbed into her car, wiped her eyes, and driven straight to the intersection where she’d found Steve, the stack of fliers she’d printed and a roll of tape tucked into her bag.

Now, she walked up the stairs to Samar’s apartment, trying not to think about how this was the first time she would be using her key. _Her_ key to _Samar’s_ apartment. Samar, the most mysterious, guarded woman she’d ever met. She never could have guessed they’d end up here.

She slipped the key into the lock and walked inside, smiling to herself as she shut the door behind her. She dropped her bag next to Samar’s on the bench in the entryway, and made her way into the living room.

Her smile only grew wider. “Ohhhhh my god,” she squealed as quietly as she could.

“Don’t you dare say a word,” Samar replied, glancing up at Liz from her spot on the couch, where she was lying on her side, Steve curled up in a ball asleep against her stomach.

“A word about what?” Liz smirked. Samar shot her a look, then glanced down at the sleeping cat as her fingers danced lightly across his back. Liz took the opportunity to whip her phone from her pocket and snap a picture before Samar could figure out what was going on.

At the sound of the fake shutter clicking, Samar’s gaze shot up and she instantly flung her head back with a sigh. “Delete that right now,” she insisted.

Liz tilted her head, grinning. “I will do no such thing.”

“Liz...” Samar groaned.

This,” Liz gestured to the two of them, her hand moving the length of Samar’s body, “is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I believe those are words,” Samar grumbled.

“I told you he likes you,” Liz continued, ignoring her.

“I’m still not convinced, but I will admit his fur is exceptionally soft,” Samar replied, smiling softly down at the sleeping cat. Steve suddenly repositioned himself, stretching his paws out but remaining snuggled against Samar. “Okay, I will also admit that he’s adorable and hard to resist,” she admitted with a sigh.

Liz chuckled and moved to sit down against the couch next to where Samar’s head was propped up on her elbow. She laid her arm behind Samar’s head, sliding her fingers into her curls. She rested her chin on the cushion, and when Samar’s gaze met hers, she smiled. “You gave me a key,” she murmured happily.

Samar held back a smile of her own, attempting to be coy. “Yes, well, I have the entire Keen animal colony living in my home, so I figured you should have access.”

“Smart thinking,” Liz replied, twirling a strand of Samar’s hair around her fingers.

“And, you know, it doesn’t hurt that you’re nice to look at,” Samar added, allowing the smile to appear, a twinkle in her eye. She winked.

Liz bit her lip, trying not to laugh. Samar grinned back, her eyes studying Liz’s face. After a moment, Liz murmured, “Thank you. I know it’s a big step.”

“You’re already here all the time anyway,” Samar murmured back.

“I know. But still. It feels like a big step.”

Samar swallowed heavily. “It does for me too,” she whispered, then smiled brightly.

Liz felt like her heart might burst with the rush of adoration pulsing through her chest.

 

***

 

That night as they were getting ready for bed, as Samar dropped her toothbrush back into the cup by the faucet, she turned to Liz, who was spitting out her mouthwash.

“If someone asks directly about our relationship, how do you want to handle it?” she asked.

Liz glanced up at her from her crouched position over the sink, finished rinsing her mouth, and turned to face Samar, her brows furrowed. “Do you think someone will ask?”

Samar shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe. Aram might figure it out.”

Liz placed her hand on Samar’s hip and smiled softly. “If someone asks, we answer.”

“With the truth?” Samar raised an eyebrow.

Liz nodded. “With the truth.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Liz nodded again. “Yep.” She leaned in to kiss Samar briefly, as if she could convince her with her lips that she was telling the truth. “It’ll keep getting harder to hide, and it’s not worth the stress,” she continued. “What’s the worst that can happen? They’ll be surprised for a week and then they’ll move on.” She shrugged.

“You know that’s not the worst that can happen, Elizabeth,” Samar replied seriously, studying her face.

Liz sighed. “I know. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Okay?”

Samar remained silent.

“Unless that’s not okay…?” Liz prompted her.

Anxiety thrummed through Samar’s body, but she forced a smile. “I don’t want to lose my job, but I’d rather not lose you.”

“You won’t lose me,” Liz insisted, “I swear. And if the job thing did happen, I would quit so you could stay.”

“What if they won’t agree to that? You’re the one Reddington speaks to.”

Liz shook her head. “If I hold that much power over the situation, then they’ll listen when I insist you keep your job.”

Samar chuckled under her breath. “I admire your optimism, but I’m not sure I entirely agree with it.”

“Samar, if you want to keep it a secret, that’s fine. Just tell me and mum’s the word,” she assured her.

 _Say you want to keep it a secret,_ Samar thought to herself, _don’t be the hero, she won’t care_. But then she forced another smile and heard herself saying, “No, no. If someone asks, we tell the truth.”

Liz smiled and kissed her. But Samar’s thoughts were elsewhere. She was afraid to tell Liz the truth of the truth—that if she lost her job with the task force, now that her Mossad team in Washington had been disbanded after the deadly Hasaan incident, she would almost certainly be transferred somewhere else, likely somewhere far from the U.S.

Which meant if worst came to worst, she’d lose not only her job with the FBI, but Liz as well.

 

***

 

Samar kept her distance from Liz the next day at work, nearly enough to arouse suspicion in their _lack_ of interaction. Aram noticed. And so did Liz.

When Samar left to go to the nearby coffee shop mid-afternoon, Liz slipped out a few minutes later and followed her. Samar turned from the counter, surprised to see Liz standing there even while knowing she shouldn’t be surprised in the slightest.

“Seems like you’re avoiding me today,” Liz stated casually when Samar walked up to her.

Samar’s grip on her paper cup tightened.

Liz glanced around and then reached for Samar’s free hand, squeezing her fingers quickly before letting go. “What’s going on?” she murmured, a worried expression on her face.

Samar closed her eyes, her head dropping forward. She shook her head, her lips in a thin line. “Nothing.”

Liz sighed. “Please don’t pull away from me, Samar. Please.”

“That’s not what I’m doing, Liz,” she insisted, opening her eyes to meet Liz’s concerned gaze.

“Then tell me what’s going on,” Liz whispered determinedly.

Samar studied her for a few seconds, swallowed heavily, and then forced a smile. “Nothing’s going on.”

Liz watched, her mouth agape, as Samar walked past her and out the door.

 

***

 

Liz didn’t come to her apartment that night. She didn’t text or call either. Samar sat on her couch, her head in her hands. This was the opposite of what she wanted.

Hudson trotted over, sliding his chin in between where her elbows were resting on her knees. She opened her eyes, looking down at his furry head in her lap. She lifted her head and began petting him, rubbing his neck and behind his ears. She blinked back a few tears and sighed.

As soon as he’d registered her tears, Hudson jumped up onto the couch beside her, leaning into Samar’s side. She wrapped an arm around him and breathed a chuckle through her tight throat. “If you keep this up, the crying will get worse, bud.”

He responded by licking her chin. She couldn’t help but smile then. Animals were gross, but they gave you so much love in return. She understood the appeal.

It was too early for sleep, but she didn’t want to think about what an idiot she was being, so she went to the kitchen, downed a glass of wine, and collapsed into her bed.

Just as the alcohol made her eyes heavy, just as she felt herself drifting off into the beginnings of sleep, she felt Steve hop up onto the foot of the bed, curling up by her feet.

She wiggled her toes against him and smiled when she felt his little paws batting at her through the sheets.

 

***

 

The next day, it was Liz’s turn to avoid Samar. She was angry and hurt. She walked past Samar’s desk without even glancing in her direction. Samar watched her disappear into Cooper’s office with a report in her hand, and then she sighed, dropping her head into her hands.

“What the heck is going on with you two?”

She jumped at the sound of Aram’s voice and looked up to find him standing right next to her desk, one eyebrow raised.

“Nothing,” she insisted, trying to make her tone breezy. Jeez, “nothing” was becoming the only word in her vocabulary.

“I don’t think I believe you,” Aram replied, tilting his head. He walked around the desk beside her and leaned backwards against it so he could face her.

“Nothing, Aram. Please just drop it.” She sighed tiredly, her eyes pleading with him.

Aram placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. “If you want to talk about anything, you know where to find me.” He pushed himself away from the desk and walked away.

 

***

 

That night, Samar heard a knock at her front door. She got up from her spot at the kitchen counter where she’d been watching Hudson and Steve eat, and opened the door.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“Why didn’t you use your key?” Samar asked, swallowing heavily.

Liz’s arms were crossed over her chest. “I didn’t feel like I could. It’s obvious that you don’t trust me.” Her voice wobbled.

“That’s not true, Liz, I-”

“Then why won’t you _talk_ to me? About _anything_?” Liz demanded. “You’re still so guarded with me, Samar, and it hurts. I get that this shit is hard for you, I do, but it feels like you’re not even trying.”

A rush of anger flooded Samar. “Are you _kidding_ me? I gave you a key to my apartment. I’m taking care of your pets, including a cat that you didn’t even know existed until three days ago. You think I’m not _trying_?” Samar’s voice was shaking and she took a deep breath to get it under control. “I’m trying _so_ fucking hard, Liz. I can’t believe you don’t see that.” She shook her head in disbelief, turning away and walking farther into the apartment so Liz wouldn’t see her blinking back anxious tears of frustration. She heard the door close, footsteps behind her, and then felt a hand on her shoulder. She took another breath to steady herself.

Liz slid her hand down to the back of her shoulder blade. “You’re right. I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.” She kissed Samar’s shoulder where her hand had just been. Samar didn’t move, frozen in place. “I’m sorry,” Liz whispered again, rubbing Samar’s back.

“I made everything worse,” Samar finally muttered. “I’m so bad at this.”

“Talk to me, babe. Tell me what’s going on,” Liz pleaded in a whisper.

Samar released a shaky sigh, focusing on the steadying touch of Liz’s fingers on her back. “If I stop working with the task force—or more likely, _when_ I stop working with the task force—I’m almost certain that Mossad will send me away. The team I used to work with in Washington no longer exists, so they would have no reason to keep me here.” She felt Liz’s forehead fall forward against her shoulder then. “I don’t want it to happen, I don’t want them to take me away from you, but I think it’s inevitable.”

Liz’s arms slid around her waist, and she let herself relax into Liz’s chest. Liz hooked her chin over Samar’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you say anything the other night?” Liz asked gently.

“I was afraid. I’m still afraid. I don’t want you to think I tricked you into a relationship that can’t go anywhere, or for you to think that my feelings for you aren’t real.”

Liz kissed Samar’s shoulder again, letting her lips linger against the fabric of her shirt. “I know they’re real, Samar,” she murmured.

Samar took a deep breath. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I made the situation worse by not being upfront about it. Aram is more suspicious now because we’ve been so distant at work. He almost asked me today, and if the FBI finds out…I’m so afraid of the consequences.”

Liz lifted her head and pushed at Samar’s hips, trying to get her to turn around. “Hey,” she whispered. When Samar was facing her, Liz’s heart ached at the expression on her face, at how strained her eyes looked. “Listen to me. We don’t have to tell them anything.”

“Liz-”

“No, listen—we don’t. We won’t tell them. If someone asks, we’ll deny it. I don’t care. I want what’s best for our relationship, even if that means keeping it a secret.”

“I’m tired of keeping you a secret.”

Liz smiled sadly. “I know, me too. But I’d rather be with you in private than not at all.”

Samar’s lips formed a wobbly smile, her eyes drifting down to their feet momentarily. Liz cupped Samar’s cheeks until she was looking at her again. “I’ll have to leave eventually,” Samar whispered, blinking back tears.

Liz shook her head. “No, you won’t _have_ to. Mossad doesn’t own you. You’re allowed to make your own decisions. And if that decision _is_ to stay with Mossad and leave DC, then I’ll understand,” Liz said, gazing into Samar’s eyes and stroking her cheeks with her thumbs.

Samar closed her eyes. “I don’t want to make that decision.”

“We’re not there yet,” Liz murmured. She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around Samar’s neck, kissing the sensitive spot behind her ear.

Samar’s arms came around her, clutching at her desperately, and she buried her face into Liz’s shoulder. “I love you, Elizabeth.”

“I love you too, beautiful,” Liz whispered in Samar’s ear.

Just then, they felt a furry creature slithering between their legs, and they disentangled from each other to look down. Samar laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes and crouching down to pick up the cat.

She stood up, cradling Steve against her chest, and scratched under his chin. He squirmed in her embrace. “Nope, if you get to sleep on my face at night, I get to hold you whenever I want,” Samar told him sternly.

Liz burst out laughing. “I knew you’d learn to love him.” She leaned over to place a kiss on Steve’s head, just between his ears.

 

***

 

That night in bed—Liz’s back pressed into Samar’s chest, their legs tangled together, Samar’s arm protectively over her waist and holding Liz’s hand where it rested on the sheets—Samar couldn’t help but give in to the fear again. “What if Aram has already figured it out?” she whispered.

“Then we’ll deny it. And even if he knows, he won’t tell anyone. It’s _Aram_. He’s simultaneously the smartest and the sweetest person we know. I’m pretty sure that combination ensures we have nothing to worry about.”

“He’s also a big fan of following the rules,” Samar mumbled, thinking back to how Aram had caused her to lose her job. But then she thought about the letter he’d written to get her her job _back_ , and she relaxed a little. Maybe it was true that his rule following was only strict when it came to matters of life and death. Hopefully an inter-team relationship wouldn’t be on that list.

Liz squeezed Samar’s hand. “Everything’s gonna be fine, Samar.” She turned in her arms until they were facing each other, her hand coming to rest in the dip of Samar’s waist. “Are you happy being with me?”

“Of course,” Samar replied, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“Focus on this moment. You and me—and a cat—in this bed, right now. Does this make you happy?”

Samar couldn’t help herself. “Well, I could do without the cat.”

Liz snorted. “Shut up, you like him,” she whispered.

“Yeah. But I couldn’t resist,” Samar replied with a smirk, her nose crinkled in amusement.

Liz smiled at her, gazing into her eyes. “Are you happy, right this second?”

Samar lifted her hand to Liz’s hair, stroking it back behind her ear, her nails soothing against Liz’s scalp. She nodded. “Yes. Right this second, and every second with you, I’m happy,” she replied.

Liz’s smile grew wider. “Then everything’s gonna be fine.” She pressed her lips to Samar’s, kissing her deeply, her hand slipping from Samar’s waist and traveling up her spine.

Steve decided this was the perfect time to interrupt, climbing up onto Samar's hip, padding across their blanketed bodies and letting out a soft meow.

Liz laughed against Samar’s lips, pulling away as slowly as possible, relishing the moment. She reached down, stroking behind Steve’s ears. “Hey, Stevie boy,” she murmured, looking down at him. He butted his head against her palm and then padded his way up the length of the bed, settling himself on Samar’s pillow.

Samar sighed. “ _Really_ , Steve?”

Liz bit her lip, but her body was shaking with her withheld laughter. “Do you want me to make him move?” she finally managed to ask without giggling.

“No, it’s fine,” Samar sighed again. “But looks like we’re sharing a pillow from now on.” She shimmied closer to Liz until Liz scooted backwards, farther onto her side of the bed. Samar snuggled up to her, tucking her forehead against Liz’s shoulder. She sighed in contentment as she settled in to the new pillow, dropping a kiss on Liz’s shoulder.

“Are you sure? This is comfy enough for you?” Liz asked, concerned.

“Mhmm. This is perfect,” she mumbled sleepily.

Liz smiled. She was totally fine with this new arrangement.

 

***

 

“What’s up with you two?” Aram asked Liz the next day at work.

Liz’s heart thudded in her chest. He just wasn’t giving up, apparently. “What?”

Aram shot her a look. Playing innocent clearly wasn’t going to work.

“Oh, you mean with all the tension this week? I rescued the cat, remember? Samar’s been adjusting, that’s all.”

Aram didn’t look convinced.

“She really hates cats. It’s a miracle she let me bring him to her place,” Liz continued.

Aram’s expression lightened then and he chuckled. “Yeah… Well, it’s really great that she’s helping you out. If the feline hatred wins out though, you can bring him to my place. I love cats.”

Liz smiled, relief flooding her body at the realization that it seemed Aram had taken her explanation as truth. “Oh, awesome. Thanks, Aram, I’ll keep that in mind.”

He nodded and then turned away to head back to his desk, instantly losing himself in whatever was on his computer, seemingly no longer interested in observing his two female teammates.

“Thank god,” Liz mumbled under her breath as she swiveled her desk chair back in the correct direction.

Her cell phone rang from under a pile of paperwork, and she shuffled through it until she could answer the call. She didn’t know the number, but it was local.

“Hello?” she said, scooting her chair in and resting her elbow on the desk.

“Hi, I’m calling about the found cat fliers?” a female voice on the other end said.

Liz’s heart dropped. “Oh, um… Is he yours?” She was trying very hard to sound breezy, but she wasn’t sure it was working.

“Not mine, but I recognize him from around the neighborhood. I’m going to ask around with my neighbors, but I wanted to let you know. I’m surprised the owner didn’t already see the fliers.”

“Yeah, I wanted to be thorough,” Liz replied in a fog. “But you’re definitely the only person to have called so far.”

“Okay, well, I’m about to start calling around. Do you have any other photos of the cat?”

Liz searched her brain. She felt like it wasn’t quite functioning. Why was she so attached to this cat? It had only been a few days. She closed her eyes and forced herself to reply. “I think I have one or two.”

“Great, could you send them to me? My number’s 202-555-5555.”

“Yep, you got it.” Liz scribbled the number down. “Good luck. Um…keep me posted.”

“Will do,” the woman responded.

After they had hung up, Liz scrolled through her photos. There were two of Steve, not including the one she’d used on the fliers. One photo was of him padding through the kitchen, the other was the one where he was curled up with Samar on the couch. Liz smiled at the second one and proceeded to only send the first to the number she’d just been given.

She dropped her phone on top of the stack of paper, her shoulders slumping. _I should’ve known this would happen, he’s not my cat,_ she thought bitterly.

Liz pushed her chair back and stood up quickly, heading to an empty office down the hall, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. She felt tears brimming behind her eyelids. _This isn’t just about Steve_ , she realized, _it’s about_ _her_ —beautiful, brilliant Samar, who was going to end up leaving. Samar, who prioritized career over everything else because it was all she’d ever known. Samar would choose Mossad in a heartbeat. Liz’s chest ached. She could feel the deadline looming in her unknown future, a bomb ticking away in her heart. She allowed herself to cry as quietly and as controlled as she could manage, hastily wiping the tears from her cheeks.

A knock behind her startled her and she moved away from the door, trying to erase any trace of crying from her face.

She heard the door opening, Samar’s voice. “Liz?”

Liz glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, hey,” she said, an obviously fake cheer tingeing her voice.

Samar quickly walked inside and closed the door behind her. She crossed her arms over her chest as she moved toward Liz. She wanted to reach out, but there were cameras all over the Post Office. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, um.” Liz sniffed. “Someone just called about Steve. It’s fine, I’m overreacting.” She waved it off, acting nonchalant.

Samar’s brows furrowed. “That’s why you’re crying?” It wasn’t _entirely_ unsurprising, but she was suspicious.

“Yeah, like I said—overreacting.”

Samar studied her face, her eyes. “I don’t think that’s why you’re crying.”

Liz swallowed heavily and frowned, crossing her own arms over her chest, mirroring Samar. She didn’t say anything, her eyes dropping momentarily to the floor.

And then Liz’s gaze returned to her face, and in that moment, in a single instant, everything became clear, sharpened into focus, and Samar knew. She knew why Liz was crying. And she knew with absolute certainty that she would never ever let Mossad take her away from this. She would never choose Mossad when this woman was the other option. She would never again choose her career over love.

She stepped forward and enfolded Liz in her arms.

Liz stiffened in her embrace, her arms still caught between them. “What are you doing?” she whispered anxiously.

“I choose you,” Samar murmured beside her ear.

“What?” Liz asked quietly, too afraid to hope the words meant what she thought they might mean.

“I’m comforting my girlfriend and telling her that I will never, not in a million years, let a job take me away from her.”

Liz’s arms slipped around her waist then, squeezing tightly, desperately. She buried her face in Samar’s shoulder, tears of relief slipping form her eyes. Samar simply held her trembling body. She closed her eyes and softly kissed Liz’s temple, letting her lips rest there for a long moment.

Then she heard Liz speaking against her, her breath ghosting across her collarbone. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be the reason you lose something important to you.”

“You’re far more important to me, Elizabeth. Plus, who would help you with the animal sanctuary?”

Liz laughed softly, but then remembered the phone call. “Well, it looks like we only have one animal now.”

“You can get another cat,” Samar told her.

Liz held her tighter. “I really do have the best girlfriend,” she whispered.

Samar didn’t argue the word choice this time. She smiled instead. “Should we go talk to Cooper?” she asked suddenly.

“ _Now?_ ” Liz asked incredulously, disentangling herself from Samar and looking at her like she’d lost her mind.

“Yes, now. There are, like, four cameras in this room alone. I’d rather he found out directly from us.”

Liz studied her for a moment, then reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “Okay. You ready?”

Liz could see the anxiety running through her. Samar’s shoulders were tense, and her face was tight, but then she smiled—a smile that reached her eyes, making the corners crinkle. “I’m ready,” she breathed out.

 

***

 

“Agents Keen, Navabi,” Cooper nodded. “What can I do for you?” he asked as they closed the door to his office behind them.

“Well, sir, we, uh…” Samar took a steadying breath as she walked closer to his desk where he was now standing and straightening his suit jacket.

“Samar and I are in a relationship, sir,” Liz spoke up. She couldn’t help herself. She wanted to make sure he knew she was ready to fight for this. Cooper raised an eyebrow in surprise, and she took a deep breath. “Is that something that could present a problem for the Bureau?” She knew her voice sounded relatively cool, calm, and collected, but her heart was pounding.

Cooper cleared his throat. “The Bureau’s rules are complex and varied, Agent Keen. It would depend on the situation. Relationship disclosure is generally encouraged when it comes to direct supervisors—in this case, me—but past that, it’s determined on a case-by-case basis.”

Liz nodded in understanding, and Samar spoke up, always straight to the point. “In this case?”

Cooper smiled softly at the two anxious women standing across from him. “In this case, I don’t see any reason why I would need to inform anyone up the ladder.”

Relief hit them both simultaneously, Liz exhaling shakily and Samar’s eyes slipping closed.

“You aren’t direct partners,” Cooper continued, ticking the reasons off on his fingers as he spoke. “This task force is specialized, fairly unique—hell, we hardly ever follow the rules exactly by the book here.” He smiled warmly at them. Liz let out a surprised breath of laughter at his unexpected response, and a smile spread unwittingly across Samar’s face. “And with Agent Navabi on loan from another agency, there’s even less reason to disclose the relationship.”

Liz glanced at Samar and grinned before turning back to Cooper. “Thank you, sir. We really appreciate it,” she told him, stepping forward to shake his hand. His grip was strong and warm, reassuring—as was his smile.

Samar felt slightly dazed, but she followed Liz’s lead, shaking Cooper’s hand, feeling an immense weight lifted from her shoulders at the assurance she could sense in his touch. “More than you can imagine, sir. Thank you.”

And just like that, it was over. Just like that, their relationship was safe.

 

***

 

Liz and Samar, used to being discreet at work, continued to be discreet, even though they no longer needed to be quite so careful. But as soon as they got home, Liz launched herself at Samar, hands on her cheeks, kissing her deeply. Samar steadied herself from the impact, her hands gripping Liz’s hips.

They kissed until they were breathless, and then Liz pulled away just enough to whisper an “I love you” against her lips. ~~~~

Samar peppered kisses down Liz’s jaw and then back to the corner of her lips. “I love you too,” she whispered simply, before nipping at Liz’s bottom lip and kissing her again.

Liz’s phone suddenly rang from inside her bag, interrupting their kiss. She pulled it out, recognizing the number, the smile slipping temporarily from her face as she answered.

But then she stood there in this apartment that had become home, and she listened as the woman from earlier explained that yes, she _had_ seen the cat around the neighborhood, but according to her neighbors, he didn’t belong to anyone, that it was assumed the cat was a stray that stuck around because the kids on the block kept feeding him. Liz thanked her profusely, her face lit up with a bright smile once again.

When she hung up, Samar looked at her curiously. “Did you find Steve’s owner?” she asked, concerned and confused by Liz’s expression.

“Yep.” Liz bit her lip and grinned, unable to draw out the charade. “Us.”

“Us?”

“Us,” Liz repeated happily. “He didn’t belong to anyone, he was a wanderer.” She bounced on the balls of her feet.

Samar breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at her. “All right, I officially declare the trial-by-cat over. Steve can stay.”

“I’ll just let you keep thinking you had a say in the matter,” Liz replied with a smirk. The resulting look of indignation on Samar’s face made her burst out laughing.

But then Samar sighed, knowing Liz was right. “Shut up,” she mumbled, swatting Liz playfully on the arm. “We both know I can’t deny you anything, but we can at _least_ pretend otherwise so I don’t look _quite_ _so_ pathetic.”

Liz, still giggling, reached for Samar’s waist and pulled her in until their hips were touching. “It’s not pathetic, it’s adorable.” She slipped a hand around to Samar’s lower back before adding, “And I was just kidding.”

Samar kissed her, and then whispered, “No you weren’t.” Liz snorted, her forehead dropping forward onto Samar’s shoulder.

Samar pressed her lips into Liz’s hair and lingered for a moment before stepping back a few inches. She reached for Liz’s hand, twining their fingers together. “So, we have a lot to celebrate,” she mused, a smile of pure joy and contentment tugging at her lips.

“That we do,” Liz agreed, nodding resolutely.

“Can I take you out to dinner?” Samar’s smile widened. “Hold your hand in public?”

Liz lifted Samar’s hand to her lips and kissed one of the many scars she knew by heart. “It would be an honor to hold your hand in public, Samar.”

 

***

 

They did just that—held hands across the table, sharing dinner in a nice restaurant, dressed up for each other. It felt like their first real date, one where they could gaze and flirt unrestrained.

When they arrived home, there was a different kind of celebrating, and then they fell asleep, cuddled together on Liz’s side of the bed—Hudson at their feet and Steve in his rightful place on Samar’s pillow.


End file.
